


Rewrite the Stars

by IncandescentAntelope



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (it’s mostly just the setting and characters with a few details changed, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Angst with a Happy Ending, Class Differences, Class Issues, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Inspired by The Greatest Showman (2017), Light Angst, M/M, Sneaky Victuuri smut because I can't help myself, Swearing, Trapeze, bc I don’t actually like this movie very much but I love zac efron and zendaya’s characters), eat the rich, trapeze artist!Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 06:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18462992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncandescentAntelope/pseuds/IncandescentAntelope
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky is one of the stars of Katsuki Yuuri’s circus, alongside his brother Viktor, and a handful of oddballs and what the public deem "freaks". Their little family of outcasts have been thrust into the spotlight, and a wealthy bachelor has his eye set on Yuri. (Yuri doesn't quite know how to feel about that.)





	Rewrite the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This is _looooooooooosely_ based on the Greatest Showman, which I have more than a handful of issues with, but that isn't really important. Prior understanding of the movie isn't super important, hopefully I've built the world well enough without it (: If you want to watch the scene that this is inspired by, here's a [link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oubvFONlR-w)!
> 
> And thanks again to [Fuzzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzycatsandgoofyhats/pseuds/fuzzycatsandgoofyhats/) for beta reading this!

Yuri was an idiot for saying yes, for going to the theater with him. An idiot for thinking he wouldn’t draw attention. An idiot for thinking that this was… something. That the way Otabek looked at him was more than the gawking he was used to. 

But how could he say no to a night with him? When Otabek Altin, one of the most mysterious and eligible bachelors in Manhattan, (and the Pig's business partner, Yuri learned) approached him after their Friday matinee with a bouquet of yellow roses, bleeding to red at the edges… his soft voice asked Yuri to accompany him to the theater in his odd deadpan, how could Yuri refuse? His exact words were, _“it sounds stuffy as hell, but fine. And you'd better take me out for dinner after.”_

At least in the walls of the circus, he knew the gawkers were looking at him for the things he could do with his body: the impossible shapes he could create with his long, lanky limbs, the gravity-defying feats he performed with Viktor.

But here in marble hallways and ivory pillars, Yuri wearing a suit that clearly didn’t match the styles the other patrons were wearing, his long blonde hair standing out in a crowd full of top hats… Yuri knew he was an idiot. He saw the way the stony-faced aristocrats looked at him, down their noses and as if he was a piece of trash rolling across the road. He heard the whispers, even if Otabek didn’t.

_“Can you believe what Otabek brought?”_

_“Looks like Altin brought a pet to the opera…”_

_“Heavens above, did you see it?”_

It. 

That word was the one that hurt the most. It. He was no better than an animal. No longer a human. Not even worth the ‘freak’ title he had swallowed and embodied in the past months since he joined the Pig’s circus. It had been tolerable, until a pack of velvet-clad assholes smoking cigars cornered him and Otabek on their way to their box.

“So, Beks found a new toy, huh?” One of them said, blowing a puff of smoke directly into Yuri's face.

“Looks like something my cat wouldn't want to drag in, to be honest.” Another said, snickering behind a playbill. Yuri let his fringe fall over his face. He didn't want to keep looking at their stupid sneering eyes anymore.

“God, Beks. It's embarrassing, really… what would your parents think about this?” The one in the stupid tie said, and Yuri felt his heart drop into his stomach. _His parents?_ Would they disapprove?

But… since when did he care about what other people thought? Since when did he seek approval from anyone but himself? He felt the pull of tears in his throat, yanking his arm out of the crook of Otabek's elbow. 

"Yuri? Wh-where are you going?" The Kazakhstani man stammered, watching as Yuri turned on his heel and moved for the door. 

"Go to hell! All of you!" He spat without turning around, his voice cracking and echoing through the hallway as he ran. 

"Yuri! Wait!" Otabek gave chase, ignoring the outraged calls of his name from those silver spoon-fed fools he used to call his friends. He followed that flash of blonde hair as he ran at top speed back to the circus, through eerily silent streets, where the lamplighters were still making their rounds. Yuri easily outpaced him, his slight and athletic build carried him over the cobblestone streets and down the alleyways he had been so familiar with for so long before he and Viktor found the circus. And Yuuri.

Otabek's lungs burned when Yuri finally dipped out of his line of sight, his legs took him no further. He coughed into his fist as he walked the rest of the way, tracing that familiar route back to the circus, where he had spent so much of his free time, and invested most of his expendable income. By now the man at the back door recognized him, tipping his hat to _"Mister Altin."_

"Just ‘Otabek’ is fine, Leo." He said as he walked through the empty staging areas and the hall of dressing rooms and past Katsuki's office. He almost raised his hand to knock, to ask if the ringmaster had seen Yuri, but a muffled cry of _"Da, Yuuri, there!"_ from the other side of the door discouraged the notion immediately.

It seemed surreal, everywhere in the building was so quiet (beside the ringmaster's office, of course), the halls silent. Everyone else must have turned in for the night, in the apartments one level down. Otabek let his feet carry him up the back stairwells and up into the catwalks where he and Yuri spent hours talking, but didn't find him.

He heard it then, the light swish of rope, the slap of dusted hands… and the choked mumblings of a furious Yuri. Of course he was in the ring. Otabek quickly descended the spindly spiral staircase to the main floor. He couldn’t help but feel like a voyeur, watching from the shadows for just a moment.

Yuri sharply tugged his long, blonde hair into a messy knot at the back of his head, muttering in Russian. He pulled on his rope, ensuring it was properly weighted for a solo practice, the other end of it secured with three times his body weight in sandbags and lashed to the floor. He padded barefoot to the center of the ring, taking his first position when he heard the distinct crunch of sand under a different pair of feet. Otabek stepped into the main ring, the only space in the large circular room still lit. He rolled his eyes and turned his back to the man.

"Yuri, what they said back there-" 

"What?" the blonde acrobat hissed. "That I'm not fucking good enough? You think I haven't heard that before? You think I give a shit?"

"I think that what they said was completely unacceptable, regardless of how far down you push your feelings on the matter." He replied softly, watching entranced as Yuri lifted himself off the ground and launched into a simple routine. His body flew through the air as though he was suspended by nothing but his own sharp defiance, the fire in his emerald eyes daring gravity to pull him back down. Through the simple leotard, Otabek could see the hard lines of ribs and the knobs of his spine as his body bowed and flexed, soaring and spinning. Otabek draped his coat over the railing, rolled up his sleeves and tossed his hat into a chair, completely entranced by the music the blonde was creating with the swish of air and the small gasping noises of exertion. He barely registered that he had walked into the sandy circle, and was now watching as Yuri spun long loping loops around him.

"My feelings?" Yuri scoffed as he let go of the rope, launching into a loop. He spun in the air like he was lighter than a feather, every bit as graceful. "Since when, in eighteen years, has anyone given a shit about _my_ feelings? I'm just a _freak_ , remember?" 

For a moment, Otabek thought he wasn't going to catch the rope as he spun faster and faster, quickly approaching the ground. With all the grace of a jungle cat, Yuri extended a hand and stopped his descent, golden hair falling around his shoulders as he glared down at the dark-haired man. He hooked the rope around his ankle twice and twisted until he dangled upside down, his scowl now inches from Otabek's face. 

"I've never thought that of you. You know that." Otabek's voice was hushed, as though any louder would shatter the illusion of the golden angel above him.

"Oh _really?_ And how do I know you're not lying? Like everyone else?" his voice broke as he stared into those deep pools of melted chocolate, dark as night. 

"Why would I ever lie to you, Yuri? Why?" He asked softly, fighting back the urge to reach up and touch that cheek. 

"Because... you're you, and I'm me? You have everything you could ever want and I have to fight just to fucking survive?" He pulled out of the upside down posture, swinging into another frenzied loop, landing on upper banisters and diving back down, swirling around Otabek like a tornado. 

"Not everything." He replied stoically, not daring to look away from the airborne blonde. He landed between Otabek's feet, standing on his toes to directly challenge the taller man.

"Oh, and what might that be? More money? Daddy's approva-" Otabek shook his head, pressing a finger to Yuri's lips as they curled and spat their poison. 

"You."

Yuri froze, emerald eyes impossibly wide, not daring to blink. He would not be the first to blink, to break the contact. He was sure his damned heartbeat was echoing around the ring. Maybe he was also hearing Otabek's. Maybe.

"I'm done playing games, Otabek." he huffed, stepping backwards. Once. Twice. "Whatever stupid idea you got lodged in that thick head of yours, drop it." 

Otabek smirked, the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Oh? And what exactly do you think is in my head?" Yuri flushed, his pride stinging at the obvious taunt. 

"You think you're the first person to want this?" he waved his hands in front of his petite frame, scowling. "That you're the first to go after a freak?" Otabek frowned, his brows furrowing. 

"Don't tar me with that brush, Yuri. That's not fair. I'm not like them and you know that." 

"Neither am I! And that’s the _fucking_ problem!" His cry reverberated off the high ceiling, sending shockwaves through both of them, Yuri at his own volume and Otabek at the pain behind his voice. 

"Why can't you see that I'm not with you for what you are? A freak? A weirdo? Hell, even for being a beautiful man?" He took a step forward. "Yuri, I'm not pursuing a _fetish_ like they are. I’m not here for what you are. I’m here for _who_ you are. I've seen you. Not this you, but you, you. The one that you build walls around and hide away from people." Another step forward, matching Yuri's retreat. "That's what I want. The fire, the burning desire of a soul so aflame with passion for his art. Yuri, I want you. I..." Otabek trailed off, hearing the soft sniff cross the ring. 

"You what, Otabek? You fucking _what_?" He screamed, finally shutting his eyes with the sting of tears. A hand curled around his jaw, a warm and gentle touch. So foreign and unfamiliar to the boy who had endured so much. 

"I love you."

Yuri screwed his eyes tight, refusing to let the tears fall. He would not cry. He. Would. Not. Cry. It was only when he felt that warm, soft hand glide from his jaw up to his cheek that he realized that he was, in fact, crying. He clenched his fists at his sides, his chest trembling and heaving as Otabek brushed the tears away, one at a time. 

"I… I don't get it," he finally dared to speak, still keeping his eyes shut, "those people at the theater… your friends…” 

Otabek laughed harshly. "What? Those over-dressed, self-centered egotists? No, they're not my type. But you," he smiled as Yuri dared to open his eyes, emeralds that sparkled in the low, warm light of ring, "you, Yuri… I would pluck every single star from the sky and rearrange them, if you wanted me to." 

Yuri laughed, a wet, bubbling sound. "How long have you held onto that shitty line?" 

"Since the first day I saw you."

The words hung heavy in the air. Yuri remembered that night, the moment that time stood still. His legs hooked around a bar, swinging up to the second or third balcony. He had seen those eyes, been captured by them, and utterly, completely captivated by them. Everything spun back into motion as he fell back to Earth, swinging back to the other side of the massive room. He almost expected him to be gone when he returned, like an apparition or a spirit. But there he was, talking to the Pig, those bottomless eyes still following his every move. It had lit a fire in his stomach, he nearly lost his grip. But he flew through the rest of the routine and stuck his landing to uproarious applause. He felt his eyes drawn back to that second floor balcony. 

"Since then, huh? You're a damned sap, y'know that?" He laughed again, feeling that same fire in his belly. Otabek ran a thumb over his cheek and nodded slowly. 

"You bet I am."

Yuri smiled, a slow, lazy stretch of his peach-colored lips, his cheek tingling under Otabek's thumb. This… this felt different from all the other times anyone had touched him. There was no roughness, no malice or even curiosity in that touch. It was like he was meant to feel it. He scoffed at himself - he'd been hanging around the Pig and Viktor for too long, their saccharine mushiness must be rubbing off on him. 

"Yura..." Otabek breathed the soft diminutive of his name, a warm, gentle permutation that felt tender in his ear. He looked back up into Otabek's eyes and saw something glimmer there, something that made that fire in his belly kick up a notch. His hand grazed along his jawline, behind his ear and into the thick blonde waves. Yuri, before he even realized he had done it, rocked up onto his tiptoes and closed the gap between them.

Yuri kissed as fiercely as he spoke, his own fingers winding into the thick mop of dark hair and pulling the man ever closer, swallowing his breaths. Lips danced around each other, kisses deepened with parted lips and sliding tongues darting out to taste and explore. 

"B-Beka..." He mumbled Otabek's diminutive in return against his lips, not wanting to break this... whatever he had stumbled into. Whatever he had been pushing away all this time. Is this what the Pig and Viktor had? Is this that disgusting thing they did? Was this... love? The older man replied with a small, questioning sound as he refused to break the kiss too, curling his other arm around Yuri's back. "Would you like to fly tonight?" Yuri asked, wrapping his arm in the rope in preparation for a familiar routine he’d done with Viktor a thousand times. But it was different now, with him. And nothing would ever be the same after tonight. 

“I already am, Yura.” Otabek says, pulling him into another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a _ridiculously_ old WIP that was swimming around in my drive for a while and I finally polished it up into its own little oneshot. Written with help from [Lauriana25](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/Lauriana25).
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this! Leave kudos if you did! Little red hearts and comments fuel me lol
> 
> ❤️ IA ❤️  
> [Tumblr](https://incandescentantelope.tumblr.com) | [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/IAtheAuthor)


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